


Three Nights in Hell

by ofmulder (JuliaJMD)



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, MSR, NSFW, casefile, mentions of Diana
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-12-24 10:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21097874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliaJMD/pseuds/ofmulder
Summary: Mulder and Scully travel to Fryeburg, Maine, where two of the most influent men of the city have died after having nightmares for three nights straight. The tension is high between Mulder and Scully and, when Mulder starts having the same nightmares the dead men had it's up to Scully to find a way to break the Three Nights in Hell curse.





	1. The First Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [red2007](https://archiveofourown.org/users/red2007/gifts).

> Hey! I really hope you like what I've done so far. I've created a far more intricate plot than I planned so I decided to split it in chapters, which I plan to finish until next Sunday.
> 
> It was a lot of fun to write and it's my first time trying my hand at angst, so I hope I got it right (also, I didn't have a beta for this, so bear with me, pls)

The autopsy room was cold and dead silent except for the buzzing of the fluorescent lights. Scully stared at the corpse in front of her dumbfounded. The first autopsy report made by the coroner was thorough and she could find no evidence other than that that was already reported on the paper in front of her.

The 51-year-old, perfectly healthy, white male lying in front of her had died from a heart attack. There were many reasons for a heart attack to happen out of nowhere, such as stress, diet, genetics and other conditions, but none seemed to apply to the man whose body she had just autopsied.

Raymond Douglas was the pastor of the town of Fryeburg, Maine. He was part of the city council had a beautiful wife, Christine and two healthy children. He lived a calm, peaceful life and was well-liked by everyone that lived in the town, except for the witch - or, at least, that was what the officer that had shown her to the coroner’s office told her.

Anthony McCarthy, 65 years old, was a lawyer, also part of the city council was a lawyer. He too had died from a heart attack not two days later than Raymond. Anthony came from a very rich family and was retired. He lived with his wife and had three kids, all of which were grown ups and living abroad. His body was in a perfectly healthy state as all and she couldn't find any reasons as to why those men would have died of a heart attack in their sleep.

She stood, staring at the bodies and trying to come to conclusions, but she could find no explanation as to why they had died.

Suddenly, the shrill sound of her phone's ringtone snapped her out of her thoughts. She fumbled a bit to find her phone.

"Scully," she answered already knowing who it was.

"Hi, Scully, it's me." The familiar voice sounded from the other side of the line. "Did you find anything?"

Scully was still slightly annoyed at him for dragging her all the way from Washington to Maine. Things were still weird between them after Arcadia, and the three hour drive from Bangor to Fryeburg did nothing to help. Aside from the comments about the case and the theories they shared during the first half hour or so the drive was made in silence. Scully even pretended to sleep to avoid the awkwardness

"No, I didn't," she said with a sigh and ran a hand through her hair. "The coroner's report checks out, they died from a heart attack. Two perfectly healthy men, died of a sudden heart attack."

"Well, I might have some leads on the case," Mulder told her. "I'm picking you up in 15 so we can have dinner and go back to the motel."

"Okay," Scully agreed, "I'll be waiting."

She hung up the phone and changed out of her scrubs. She let her hair down and grabbed all her annotations from the autopsy and from the case and headed out. Mulder was quick to get there, she waited for less than five minutes before she saw the car approaching.

She got inside the car and rejoiced the feeling of finally being seated after standing for so long. Scully let out a long satisfaction sigh.

"So," Scully cut to the chase, "I found nothing examining those bodies, I hope you got something better to tell me."

"Good night to you too," Mulder replied with a chuckle as he drove away. "I have some news. The wives were terrified within an inch of their lives. Both of them said that their husbands complained about nightmares the whole three nights before they died in their sleep."

"I mean, they could have had a heart attack from shock. Sleep paralysis maybe?" Scully chewed on her bottom lip analyzing the new information Mulder brought her. "I read a paper on it recently, some people even have panic attacks, that could cause them to have heart attacks."

"Yes, that's true," he acquiesced. "But don't you think it's weird for both men to have died of the same causes only two days apart?"

Scully opened her mouth to say something but Mulder cut her off.

" _ Plus _ ," he added, "even though one of the wives wasn't willing to talk much, the other one, Tina, Raymond's wife wasted no time in telling me about a certain witch that lives in town."

"A witch, Mulder?" Scully deadpanned. She knew she should be used to those theories by now.

“Yes, I was thinking maybe she could have cursed them," he suggested. "Tina told me that the witch had never liked them, she was isolated from everyone in the city and didn't even attend the meetings."

Scully thought his words over, considering them carefully. That matched with the story the officer told her, that gave the “witch” motive to kill. But still, the death wasn’t a murder, the men had died of natural causes.

“To me, this just sounds like superstition. They are trying to pin the murder on an innocent woman who probably doesn’t fit their Christian standards,” Scully said.

“That was my first thought too, maybe it was just a woman who was eccentric, closer to nature than most,” He explained, “so I paid her a little visit, and Scully, that woman is a witch if I’ve ever seen one.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Scully rolled her eyes, “Did she have a long crooked nose and warts all over her face? Come on, Mulder.’

“Actually, no,” Mulder cleared his throat before continuing, “I’m saying that because I went inside her house and I saw a grimoire. Also, maybe the people from the town do call her a witch because she is knowledgeable on herbs, I saw many vials there.”

“That still doesn’t make her a witch, Mulder. And, even if it did, it still doesn’t explain how those men died.” 

Scully was hating that conversation, she hated the notion of witches and how misogynistic they were, but she wouldn’t get into that discussion with Mulder, she just wasn’t in the mood.

She had been so caught up in the conversation, she didn’t notice they had just arrived at the restaurant. Mulder stopped the car in front of the dine and they went inside to get something to eat. They went inside and, suddenly, Scully realized just how hungry she was after working the whole day, the scent of the food made her stomach growl.

They sat in the booth and their discussion ceased for a moment as they both looked over the menu deciding on what to eat. Eventually, Scully decided on a Caesar salad with grilled chicken and Mulder chose a cheeseburger with fries and a coke.

"Anyway," Mulder continued their earlier conversation once he was sure the waitress wasn't listening to them anymore, "I also found something else."

Scully raised a brow, interested. 

"Since Diana is working with us on the X-Files, I called her to see if she could run a background check on them for me."

Her face fell. He was involving Diana in something she did not have to be involved. Why hadn't he called the Gunmen? Christ, he really was blind.

"Now, I know what you think about Diana, you've made your point clear," Mulder added quickly, "but she is now working with us and helping us with the case."

"It doesn't matter what I think, Mulder," Scully said dryly, "what did she find?"

Mulder seemed to be a little phazed by her answer, but went on anyway, "Well, she found that there is a lawsuit going on, it involves Gerald Frye, the son of one of the founding families of the township and the witch, Freya."

"Interesting," Scully said with a nod, the cogs on her head was spinning, that gave Freya even more motive for killing the men, but still didn't explain the cause of death.

"According to the records, Freya's family has owned the land for a little over 70 years," he explained, "For a while now, about one year or so there's been a lawsuit, Gerald Frye wants the land, he wants to add it to his property, but Freya isn't willing to sell it. Diana told me that the lawyer responsible for the case was none other than Anthony McCarthy and, from what I figured, Pastor Raymond had been badmouthing her before all the community during his sermons."

"Bad Mouthing?" Scully asked.

Just as he was about to answer the waitress came with their food.

"Thank you," Mulder said.

Scully watched as Mulder ate his fries, waiting for an answer. She ate her salad as well. It was delicious.

"The pastor's wife told me they had been spreading God's word by trying to banish that woman from the town."

She rolled her eyes at that.

"So what? You think they have all been working together to get her to give up the land?"

"Touchè." Mulder smiled and she couldn't help but smile back at him.

"Let's talk to Gerald Frye tomorrow, maybe we can find something else."

"We have to be quick then, if my calculations are correct, he doesn't have much time left." 

"What do you mean by that, Mulder?"

"I have a theory already," he told her.

"Yeah? And what is it?" She asked and took a piece of chicken from her plate.

"I think the men have been cursed."

"Well, that could be a reasonable theory," Scully said with a nod.

"What?" Mulder choked on the piece of burger he was eating.

She smiled to herself, that was exactly the reaction she wanted from him.

"Look, Mulder, we're talking about a small town, with a mostly Christian population who are clearly scared of this 'witch's' power. An easy answer to a tragedy like the sudden death of a husband is that someone wished harm upon the family," she began. "Usually, a society blames an outcast - a witch - to explain why such a thing happened, they used that as a way to justify why they didn't fit in with the standards that were imposed on them."

"I know all that already, Scully." Mulder sounded disappointed.

"This could help explain everything," The pieces were all falling into place in Scully's head. "The placebo effect works, not only with medications, but also with the process of healing or falling ill. If those men  _ believed  _ they were cursed, they might think that was a self-fulfilling prophecy, that there was no way out, they were all going to die. So, when Raymond began having nightmares and told the other two men what was happening to him, they believed that they were all cursed by the witch and thus going to die because of the nightmares."

"So what you're saying is that they believed they would die and so they died?" Mulder sounded annoyed.

"Yes, you know that the human mind is very susceptible to suggestion, so it's actually not uncommon for someone who believes they have been cursed to reinforce that belief with confirmation bias. If the victims become convinced they have been cursed to death, they might not be able to survive because of the nocebo effect. Much like a hypochondriac."

Mulder seemed to consider her words for a moment while he finished the rest of his food.

"I still wouldn't dismiss the curse theory, maybe there is a hint of the supernatural there, Scully," he finally said, "I thought that, by now, after all the cases we've worked, you'd at least consider some of my theories valid. Maybe there isn't a rational explanation to every single event that happens."

Those words sent her over the edge, "I have questioned my beliefs many times since we started working together, most times I end up accepting your theory. I just don't know why you keep trying to blame everything on supernatural events without even considering the scientific route."

"Because that's how I work, Scully," Mulder raised his voice a little, startling her. "That's how I've always worked, even before you came along. And that's how I'll continue to work. Even after you're gone."

Scully's eyes widened at his words. They hurt her more than she could express with words, but she hid the pain. She would deal with it another time, if she even decided to do so at all.

"Fine, Mulder," she said in a cold tone, "let's go back to the hotel. I'm tired."

They didn't exchange another word from the moment they left the diner until they arrived at the motel.

"Good night, Mulder." Was all she said before locking herself in her room.

* * *

Scully had a steaming hot bath, trying to relax, forget the words he told her. She found herself making excuses for her just as he was doing with Diana. Maybe he was just stressed and tired from the day. Or maybe she was being replaced. Maybe he wanted her gone from the X-Files.

Even as she laid in bed, she tossed and turned but the pain and turmoil of thoughts would not let her sleep. Scully felt empty inside. As she stared at the ceiling she wondered just what Diana was doing to manipulate Mulder like that. Maybe Scully didn't want to know the answer, maybe she already did and just didn't want to see it. But the fact that Mulder didn't trust her was heartbreaking to her.

Almost seven years they had been working together, both of them building a trust and a partnership she had never experienced before in her life and all that was being torn apart and for what?

She understood that Diana and Mulder had founded the X-Files together and known each other longer than he did Scully. But still, it pained her to know that all of her hard work and sacrifice was being disregarded and she was being… replaced.

Maybe, though Scully didn't like to admit it to herself, there was a hint of jealousy there, she loved Mulder and she wasn't only being replaced on a professional level, but also on a personal level. She felt like she was being kicked out of his heart. It made her question if she ever had a place there to begin with.

Finally, sleep came to her. She dreamed of nothing that night.

* * *

Mulder was cold, shivering, surrounded by the darkness. Far away, he could see red eyes staring at him in the distance, he could make out a silhouette moving towards him, but he couldn't see any details, since the only source of light was directly behind the figure.

Mulder could make out horns coming out of the creature's head and, slowly, as it closed the distance between them, he began to see the face and details of the creature. He wished he hadn't seen them.

Unnerving as the red eyes and horns were, the  _ thing  _ that was now inches from his face was terrifying, something out of his worst nightmare. The lighting was better and Mulder began to notice details. The eyes were hollow and inhuman, there was an evil glow to them that left him paralyzed, frozen solid. The face seemed to be made of solid wood with vines tangled all over, adorning it. There was an opening for the mouth, but there were no lips, so the teeth - sharp, wooden sticks - were bare, showing a sadistic grin. There were horns coming out of its head that seemed to be made out of wood as well, just like the rest of its body.

As his eyes moved down, Mulder saw the body, it seemed to be made out of wood and vines as well, but there were faces trapped between the vines. Tortured men stared at him, begging for help, to be set free. Having a closer look at them, Mulder could see that a couple of them belonged to the people whose deaths he and Scully had travelled to investigate.

Now the case began to make more sense, the answer stared at him with those inhuman red eyes. That was the nightmare creature all the men claimed they had seen. And the creature was now coming for him.

Mulder heard a sound that was much like the creaking of a wooden floor, it filled his head and he could feel the branches and vines wrapping around his ankles and wrists. The thorns cut through his skin and buried themselves there, making him scream out in pain. He was terrified as the excruciating pain shot through his body.

The sharp twigs and thorns scratched his body, his arms and his back, he could feel the blood trickling from his wounds, it was warm as it flowed down his legs. He felt like all of his nerve endings were on fire, he wanted to scream, to ask Scully for help, but he couldn’t, he opened his mouth but not a sound came out.

\---

It was early when Scully woke up. The emptiness from the night before still making her chest feel tight. She had never been an early bird and yet there was no reason for her to be up at that time. She looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table, it was 6 a.m.

Scully sat on the edge of the bed and stretched, knowing it would still be an hour and a half until Mulder would probably knock on her door and invite her to go have breakfast, she decided to go for a run. She figured it would be a good way to get rid of all the pent up energy from the night before.

The mornings in Maine were cold, especially during the beginning of Spring, but the coldness of the air felt good against her skin as she ran down a small path in the woods near the hotel. Living in a big city, it was nice to have a break from that kind of life and breathe a little bit of clear, forest air. She stomped away her anger and ran until she felt like there was no rage left in her and she was ready to face the day ahead of her.

She was ready 7:30 a.m, dressed up in her usual outfit and mentally preparing herself for the day ahead of her. She sat at the table in her room and made a list of people they still had to talk to. Scully figured they had to talk to Frye and she wanted to meet the so called witch to see what that was all about.

It was 8 a.m when Mulder knocked on her door.

"Morning, Scully," he greeted when she opened the door.

"Jesus, Mulder." She was taken aback by the way he looked. "Did you get any sleep at all?"

Mulder looked pale, there were dark circles under his eyes, he looked like he hadn't slept in years.

"I did, I just didn't sleep well." He dismissed her question, clearly not wanting to go into detail on the situation.

"Okay, then," Scully went along with it. If she had lost sleep over their argument, it was more than fair that he did as well. "Let's go have breakfast then."


	2. The Second Night

Over breakfast, they decided they would start off by going to the Frye Estate and talking to Gerald Frye, see if they could get any new information out of him. Despite the four cups of coffee Mulder drank, he still asked her to drive, which was weird, he never did that. During the drive, he could barely keep his eyes open and kept dozing off, waking up every time his head fell to his chest. But, what she found the most weird, was that he seemed terrified every time he woke up, almost as if he was scared of falling asleep. Scully made a mental note to ask about it later.

The estate that belonged to the Frye family was immense, there were big iron gates that sealed the place. Before they were allowed into the property, they had to announce who their presence through an intercom and, as soon as they flashed their badges, the gates opened before them.

A single path led to the main house, it forked along the way, leading to other parts of the estate, but they followed a straight line towards the mansion where the Frye family lived. The whole route was surrounded by luscious conifer woods and Scully couldn't help but admire just how beautiful it all was.

They parked the car near the house, where there was a parking slot for guests of the house. Scully could see from the corner of her eyes that Mulder seemed more awake now, he'd been paying attention the whole way from the gates until they arrived at the mansion.

They followed the cobbled path that led from the parking space to the mansion that towered over them. The building was huge, the outside was of a light blue color and the ceilings were dark blue, almost gray. It looked like something out of a dream.

"This house is enormous," Scully commented.

"Yeah," Mulder agreed. He seemed to be far too tired to say any of his funny comments, but his eyes were alert and looking all over the place.

Scully knocked on the door, which was opened right away by a woman in her late 30s. Despite it being 10 a.m. she wore a full face of makeup and her long, dark hair was brushed and styled.

"You must be agents Mulder and Scully. My name is Vivienne Frye, please, come in." The woman motioned for them to come in.

"Thank you, Msr. Frye," Mulder said with a tired smile.

Scully followed them in and the Vivienne led them to a guest room. She took her time admiring the inside of the house which was impeccably clean and decorated in a classic style, which matched the outside of the house and the overall style of the traditional family that lived there.

They sat on one of the luscious couches of the living room and Scully felt like she was sitting on a cloud.

"I will call for my husband, he's still asleep," Vivienne told them with a preoccupied sigh. With those words, she left the room.

"Hey, Scully," Mulder called.

She looked at him.

"Don't you think it's weird that the wife is all ready and the husband is still asleep?"

"A little," Scully conceded, "maybe he just decided to sleep in today, or had a rough night."

He opened his mouth to say something, but, just as he did, Gerald Frye appeared on the door. Scully had to hold back a gasp of surprise that threatened to escape her lips. The man that stood there seemed to have been very attractive, but now, he was pale, his dark hair disheveled and his eyes deep. Clearly, he hadn't been sleeping well.

"Hello, Agents, I'm Gerald Frye," he greeted them, he sounded sleepy. "Please excuse the way I look today, I haven't been getting much sleep lately."

Scully gave him a sympathetic nod and watched as the man closed the door of the room and walked over to an armchair close to the sofa where they sat.

"So, I hear you are here to investigate the deaths of my two friends," Gerald said. "Rather untimely deaths, I must say."

"Yes, indeed," Mulder agreed.

"So your friends were healthy men?" Scully asked.

"Yes, none of them smoked, we all drank, but, besides that, there was nothing," Gerald said with a sigh. "This is a small town, you know, there's not much to stress about. Anthony came here to escape the stress of the city and Raymond grew up here, I knew both his parents."

"Did any of them ever mention having trouble sleeping? Sleep paralysis, nightmares?" Scully tried. She took note of the way his eyes widened when she mentioned the nightmares.

"Nightmares?" Gerald scoffed. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, both Anthony and Raymond died in their sleep," she explained, "also, their wives said that they had been having nightmares for three nights straights."

The man seemed to think about the information for a while. He looked around the room, as if searching for a wire or someone who wasn't supposed to be listening to that conversation.

"I… I've been having nightmares as well," he finally said. "I've been having them for two days now. When…  _ it _ shows up, I feel like I can't breathe and then I get so cold."

There was silence in the room and Scully glanced over at Mulder to gauge his reaction. She found him even paler than before - as if that was even possible. He licked his dry lips and paid close attention to the words Gerald uttered.

"And what are those nightmares about?" Muder asked.

* * *

Mulder felt his blood go cold as he heard Gerald describe the same nightmare he’d had the night before. The same demons, the same horns made out of tangled vien and wood and the same tortured faces he'd seen in his dream. One, now, he knew for sure why he'd seen Gerald there, much like his friends, the man sitting before them was going to die and Mulder was too.

He tried to calm his breathing and let Scully take over the interview. His mind was racing as he tried to figure out why he'd been cursed and, most importantly, how to break the curse.

"Their wives mentioned something about there being a witch that lives near your property," Scully said.

He saw Gerald's face turn into a scowl. "That,  _ bitch _ , she is the one that caused all this, she hated us, Christian men. She hates this town and our culture, so she tried to corrupt our morals and values and kills those who stand against her."

Mulder could tell just how hard Scully was controlling herself to not lose her composure, he could see the corners of her lips trembling with rage.

"Well, given that you have an ongoing judicial dispute over her property, that makes me question the validity of your statement," Mulder chimed in, "it makes it seem that you have an ulterior motive."

" _ You're _ the ones with an ulterior motive! That land belongs to my family!" The man raised his voice, the veins on his forehead jumped. "You come into my house and disrespect me in such a way. If you are going to make false accusations and defend that who-- woman!"

"That should be enough information for us, Mr. Frye, thank you for your time," Scully said and stood up in a sharp movement, "We'll show ourselves out."

Mulder stood as well, but had himself since he felt a little dizzy from the sudden movement. Scully walked fast and he followed her out of the house and into the car.

He tried to convince himself that they didn't know for sure that it was a curse. Maybe Scully was right, maybe it wasn't a curse, maybe they all thought…

"Mulder?" she asked, her voice pulling him out of his reverie.

"Huh? What is it, Scully?" He answered.

"I said I want to talk to this witch, I need to know what all of this is about."

"Okay," Mulder said with a nod.

* * *

Scully found that Freya's property truly was close to the Frye's, the small fence that marked the area she owned was very close to the wall that surrounded Gerald's estate. The house Freya lived in seemed to be more of a hut and the vegetation that surrounded it was wild, it grew as it wished and it was beautiful in a chaotic kind of way.

Scully parked the car on the gravel path that led to the woman's house just before the fence and got out of the car, followed by Mulder, who seemed a bit reluctant to be there. She couldn't quite figure out why since he'd already been there the day before without her. She opened the gate of the fence and walked over to the door.

It took awhile for Freya to open the door after the first knock. A cat peaked from between the woman's legs and rubbed himself against her. The woman that stood before Scully looked like a fairy, she wore a long, white bohemian style dress which was a little dirty, her hair was long and red and a little messy and her skin was pale. Her eyes were of a deep shade of green and there was a hint of wisdom in her eyes.

Mulder was right, she did look a lot like a witch.

"Hello." The woman greeted them with a smile. Her voice was deep, it seemed to resonate with the forest around them. "I wasn't expecting you to be back so soon, agent Mulder."

"Hi, I'm agent Scully, Agent Mulder's partner," Scully introduced herself, "I insisted we come here again, I'd like to talk to you."

"Very well," Freya answered and walked inside the house, the door was left open as an invitation.

The inside of the house reflected the same kind of entropic energy as the forest outside did. It was cluttered and dusty, but cozy at the same time. Scully saw all kinds of books piled up, they were about mathematics and biology and herbs and, suddenly, she found herself admiring Freya without even knowing anything about her.

"Please, sit down," she motioned to an old couch and sat on a couch just across them.

The couch was old and the springs groaned under their weight.

"So, what brings you here, Agent Scully?" The woman asked and crossed her legs.

"I didn't get a chance to talk to you yesterday with my partner and today I had some questions of my own to ask you."

"Well, ask away, I might not have answers to all of them." She smiled.

Scully smiled back.

"What is your relationship to this town and the people who live here?" she began.

The smile that played on Freya's lips until that moment faded as she seemed to consider an answer to Scully's question.

"Do you know the history of this town, Agent Scully?”

“I’m a little familiar with it, yes,” Scully said with a nod.

“Well, then you must know that this town was colonized by men who ventured into lands that weren’t their own and stripped them,” the woman began, “My family’s bloodline is Welsh, we came to escape the witch hunt happening in Europe. This place, America, was marketed as a free land, still, we knew that we would be persecuted by the Christians here. That’s why my ancestors established themselves as healers.”

The woman paused and took a sip of her tea.

“For centuries, people have come to this house seeking help. Whether they want something for a cold or even something stronger,” Freya continued. “They accept me as part of the town they have to tolerate, but they don’t see me as anything but that.”

“I see…” Scully acknowledged. "And what is your relationship to Raymond Douglas, Anthony McCarthy and Gerald Frye?"

Scully expected to get some sort of reaction from her, but Freya's face remained the same.

"People in town, they say they're good men, outstanding citizens," the woman scoffed, "They're not. I've lost count of how many times these men have brought me women to perform abortions on. Anthony and his secretaries, Raymond even brought a minor from his church once."

Scully watched as she spoke, her face remained calm, but there was hatred spilling on her words.

"Not three weeks ago, Vivienne Frye brought her pregnant daughter here for an abortion as well," she added. "And then they go around town and say that I'm a slave to the devil, that my practices are satanic when all I'm doing is help those women. Raymond spread rumours about me in his church, people from the town now hate me, some men spit at me when I walk past them. Anthony and Gerald tried to steal my land by suing me because they knew I wouldn't have the money to fight back in court."

While she didn't quite agree with Freya practicing healing arts without having a medical license, she understood her point and heard the pain in her voice. She was trying to do good, help women and the people from the town and being treated like shit by those who she was helping.

"Are you aware that Raymond Douglas and Anthony McCarthy are dead?" Scully asked.

"Yes, besides the talk of the town, your partner came here yesterday to inform me as well," the woman smiled, "He his awfully quiet today, isn't he? He was much more talkative yesterday when he came to talk to me."

Indeed Mulder was far too quiet, up to know she had thought he was letting her lead, but he hadn't even chimed in with a comment as he usually did. When she glanced over at him, Mulder was even more pale than he was before, he stared at Freya as if she was the devil. Even Scully found the way she was smiling slightly unsettling.

"Why do you think Tina McCarthy blames you for her husband's death?"

"Because they hate me, the whole town hates me," Freya scoffed, "If you ask me, he was rotten. Maybe he died because of that."

"Thank you very much, Freya," Scully said, ending the conversation.

* * *

"Sweet dreams, agent Mulder," Freya said with a wave as he followed Scully to the car. 

Mulder felt his blood run cold in his veins, he knew he had been cursed. If he needed any more confirmation after hearing Gerald describing his dream, that was it. If Mulder didn't find a way to break it, he would die.

He entered the car and looked out the window. His pressure was dropping and he felt like he was going to be sick from having to deal with the imminence of his own death.

"I think this woman is hiding something," Scully broke the silence after a couple minutes.

Mulder simply nodded in reply, keeping his eyes glued to the window.

"Mulder, are you okay?" Scully asked, clearly concerned. "You've been acting weird all day, you said nothing during the time we were at Freya's house and you look awful."

"Thank you for the kind words on my appearance," Mulder said with a chuckle. "I… I didn't sleep well, I had nightmares all night."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He thought about it for a second, not sure if he should talk to her about the curse, he wasn't sure if she was going to believe him or dismiss it completely, as if she was listening to a madman.

Scully looked away from the road for a second to glance at him, he saw concern in her eyes, but he needed to know what has happening for sure, he didn't want to alarm her.

"It was nothing," Mulder dismissed it. "I've always had trouble falling asleep, it was just harder last night."

"If you say so," she dropped the subject and the rest of the ride was silent.

Scully parked at the motel and said she was going to review the notes from case and compare the autopsy reports.

Mulder went to the city's library, where he spent the afternoon. He wrote down the symptoms he was having, and how he was feeling, so he could have a couple of pointers as he did his research. He read books about witchcraft, demons and curses, trying to see if he could find something that matched what he was experience.

The placed closed by 6 p.m, at which point Mulder checked out a couple of books he'd wanted to read and took them to his room to continue researching. He locked himself in there with his computer and the books and flipped through the pages. He was losing track of time and of himself as he drank coffee and made notes, until a soft knock on the door forced him out of his thoughts.

It was Scully there, carrying pizza and a bottle of coke.

"Hey." Her voice was soft and he stepped aside so she could enter the room. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired, but hungry." Mulder ran a hand through his hair and cleared the desk that was occupied with books and his laptop

"Good thing I ordered this pizza then," she said and placed the food on the table. "What's all this?"

Scully motioned to the mess that was now on the bed.

"I've been doing some research on curses to see if I can find anything that matches the description I got from Gerald," Mulder told her as he grabbed a slice of the pizza.

"Are you still trying to pursue that line of investigation, Mulder?" Scully sighed.

"Yes, I am." He was starting to lose his patience. "Let's not discuss this right now. We can talk about it after we're done with the food."

"Okay." She conceded.

As they ate, Mulder went over what had happened during the day and what he'd found. If he was really going to die then there was no r be keeping eason for him to keep lying to her about the reason he believed it was actually a curse. He just had to build up the courage to tell her.

"Okay," Scully said with a sigh after her third slice, "Let me help you with this, what have you found so far."

"I know you're only doing this so you can debunk my theories like you usually do," Mulder said in between bites.

"Maybe," Scully smiled and stood up. She walked towards the bed and reached for the notepad and pencil he'd been using. When she did that, the pencil fell off the bed and rolled beneath the bed.

She knelt on the floor to reach for it.

"Mulder, what the hell is this?" She suddenly stood. There was something in her hand.

Mulder stood and walked over to her, he inspected the small bundle on her hand. It was tied with a piece of twine and it was filled with something. The smell wafting from it was strong and he could see a couple of herbs spilling from it.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit…" Mulder muttered as he wafted through the books, searching for a specific page he'd read from earlier.

"Mulder, what  _ is  _ this?" she asked again.

"Look." He pointed to the page on the book he was reading. "This is a spell, an enabler kind, this is placed near the victim and anyone who comes into contact with it become vulnerable to spells and curses."

She dropped the bundle immediately on the floor, as if she had been burned.

"Freya," she whispered. Her eyes widened. "How did she get in here? How did she do this?"

"Scully," Mulder began, it was time to tell her, prove his theory was correct. "Last night, the nightmares I had… It was the same as Gerald described. I've been cursed, Scully. Freya cursed me just like she did the other men."

"Jesus Christ." Was all she managed.

"We need to go to the victim's houses to check if the spells are there," Mulder said.

"Mulder…" she said and licked her lips. "If what you're saying is true, then you're going to die, just like the other men."

She was shaking.

"I know," he said, there was a somber tone in his voice. "I saw their faces… Gerald is going to die as well."

"We need to find a way to break this curse, Mulder," she was frantic, stuttering.

"Scully, calm down." He said, "you can help me with research, but, first, we need to get rid of this."

"Okay, how do we do this?"

"I read in that book that we need to burn it and purify the room it was placed in by burning sage leaves." Mulder told her.

"Okay, let's burn this thing outside." She ran her hand through her hair.

They left the room and went into the woods, far enough from the hotel so it didn't seem suspicious and burned down the spell that was placed underneath Mulder's bed.

They walked back to the hotel in silence.

"I don't think we'll be able to find sage right now. So you'll sleep in my room tonight, Mulder." Scully told him. "Even if this is just a ploy to scare us, we know that someone managed to break into your room."

"Okay, that's probably a good idea." Mulder said with a nod, "we can see if they have an extra mattress available at the reception."

* * *

There were no mattresses available, which meant they would either have to share a bed or Mulder would have to sleep on the floor. They had gathered his things from his motel room and moved it to hers so they could continue the research and see if they could find anything else.

“Do you mind if I have a shower, Scully?” Mulder asked after they were done moving his stuff.

“Of course I don’t, Mulder,” she laughed, “make yourself at home.

Mulder entered the bathroom with his clothes and towel, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Sharing a room - and maybe even a bed - with Mulder was subject to many of her late night fantasies, but never like this. Never with him being cursed and maybe about to die in two days. She was still mad at him because of their discussion and his stubbornness over the curse theory. But, as she thought about it, she had to admit it made sense.

If Mulder indeed had the nightmares he’d described and felt enough pain to make him wake up looking like that, that would explain why he was so scared of falling asleep during the car ride and why he was so tired during the day. All that she needed to see to be convinced of that theory was finding the same spells in the other victims’ houses.

But now, she had other problems to deal with, like finding the curse that was put on Mulder and… the door of the bathroom opened revealing Mulder and, oh, god, he was leaving the bathroom wearing nothing but grey sweatpants.

That was going to be one hell of a long night.

He sat next to her on the bed, the scent of his deodorant wafted from him and dared her to move closer, to make a move. But she didn’t, focusing instead on the books before her.

“Find anything yet?” he asked her.

“Nothing so far,” she said trying to sound calmer than she was.

“Well, I’m going to do some more research, but I’m really tired, so it won’t be long until I’m ready to call it a night,” Mulder said and yawned.

She nodded in reply and focused on the pages again. No matter how hard her libido was trying to take over, she had more important things to deal with, like finding a way to stop Mulder from dying.

Twenty minutes went by with nothing but the sound of turning pages breaking the silence between them. Scully was ready to put on her pajamas and go to bed when she found something.

“Hey, Mulder, look at this.” She was excited at the prospect of understanding exactly what was happening to Mulder. “The Three Nights in Hell curse, in which the caster sends a demon to haunt their enemy’s dreams.”

Mulder scooted closer to her to read from the book as well, she could feel his warmth radiating towards her.

_ ‘Oh god…’ _ she thought as she felt a gush of wetness to her core.

_ The demon is sent to drain the vital force of the caster’s enemy during the night, leaving them weaker each night, until their death, by the sunset of the fourth day. If cast on multiple victims during a short period of time, the demon becomes stronger by absorbing the victims’ energy and inflicts event more pain on them each night. _

_ It is easy to see the effects of the curse, for the enemy will show signs of weakness and fatigue. Their skin will become paler and, by the third night, their heart will stop and their torment on your life will cease. _

“Yes, this is it!” He exclaimed, “Now we only need to find a way to break it.”

“It says in this book that selenite crystals and burning sage is a good way to purify the body and aura and cleanse it, breaking the curse.”

“Yes, but this only works for smaller curses, I think this one might need something a little more elaborate since it’s a death curse,” Mulder told her, “We can try reversing the spell if Freya hasn’t put any safeguards, or we can try brute force. Either way, there’s nothing we can do about it now, let’s worry about this tomorrow.”

“Okay.” she nodded, there was a spark of hope inside her. “I’m going to get ready for bed.”

Scully grabbed her pajamas and toiletries and went to the bathroom. It was different to have the roles reversed. Usually, she was the one facing a grave danger and Mulder was the one to come out and save her. But now, not only Mulder was the one in danger, but her faith in science was being put to the test. She was desperately searching for something to believe in, even willing to discard her own beliefs to save him.

Scully left the bathroom and saw Mulder putting a couple of extra blankets on the floor, creating a makeshift bed for him to sleep in.

“Mulder what are you doing?” she asked with a sigh. “There is room for both of us in the bed. We are adults after all.”

“Why do I feel like all of this is just an elaborate plan to get in my pants?” Mulder joked.

Scully could feel herself blushing a little, “Come on, Mulder, get on the bed already.”

“Ooooh, bossy, just how I like it,” Mulder said with a laugh. He picked up his pillow from the floor and placed it on the bed. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want to cross a line here or make you uncomfortable.”

“Don’t worry about it, you need some proper rest,” she said with a smile and got under the covers. 

She turned around so she had her back turned to him and heard the rustling of the cheap bed sheets as he did the same.

“Good night, Mulder,” she whispered and turned off the lights.

“Good night, Scully.”

It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, the feeling of his body next to hers made her feel safe and protected. The warmth emanating from him was comfortable. 

Until his cold leg was pressing against her own and he sounded like he could no longer breathe.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> https://www.deviantart.com/signerjarts/art/The-beast-525827654 - reference image for demon (only, mine has red eyes)


End file.
